The Cold Dark of A Fragmented Mind
by NewEmeric
Summary: Calvin's life has been one of masks, hiding behind his humor and sarcasm. His one fear is people finding out that the face he wears all day is a fake, and seeing the real him. He pushes and drives everyone away, family, friends,... anyone trying to help. But when he meets people with pasts of there own, he wonders if they could be the ones to make it better. High School AU.
1. Paper For Breakfast

**Hey Guys, This was my first story on my old profile, Vuk Misic. I began to have too many issues with it after my old computer crapped out and died on me, and when I attempted to do anything with my documents or account, they were corrupted and/or missing, so I just gave up for a while. Well no more. My new computer now has my redone documents and I finally deleted the story from my old account, saving the documents I wanted and can now re-update it here. Hopefully I don't get in trouble for doing this... Anyway, enjoy the new and Improved Story: The Cold Dark of a Fragmented Mind.**

Calvin opened his grey eyes, and looked around his room with his one good eye, while the other just looked at the blurry mess that was his room.

His average sized corner room sat at the front right corner of the two floored brick house owned by his cousin Brandon and his wife, Georgia. The backyard was spacious, sloping gently downward towards the back fence, which was little more than a wall. When moving his meager amount of belongings into the house several months ago, Brandon had hinted that if Calvin made any friends here, he'd condone a few of them over, his special passive-aggressive way of saying to the teen:

"We're not moving again, so make some friends will you?"

Calvin had even considered it, with the deck and fire pit perfect for the colder nights of Northern California and the inground pool even more suited to the warm ones. Other than that, his home was… average. A single two car garage sat connected to the house by a small hallway, and the front yard was kept superbly watered by Georgia, who Brandon stated would go on a rampage if one of her flowers died from thirst.

Stretching his limbs, the brunette sat up and swung his legs over the side of the full sized bed, eyes now adjusted to the light coming from the two windows on either wall, and his bare feet pressed against the steel grey and black carpet covering his wood floor. Yawning he stretched his arms again, loosening his contracted muscles as he stood. Looking around the dark yellow room, he took in the fact that the floor was clear of debris, mainly clothes that never made it to the hamper tucked in the corner by the closet door.

Meaning Georgia had cleaned up before she left for work.

He hoped that she hadn't seen him in a nightmare…

Groggily and evidently half asleep, he walked, well more like waddled, over to his closet, from which he retrieved a pair of tan chinos from a hangar, then over to the dresser in the corner opposite his bed, and retrieved a fresh pair of boxers, and a t-shirt from their respective drawers. Now more alert and awake, he stuck his head out into the grey carpeted hallway that ran the length of the house, before ending in a staircase that lead into the living room downstairs. Across the hall from him was the linen closet, where he retrieved a fresh towel, before walking down the photo filled sky blue and brown hallway towards the bathroom, two doors down.

He pushed his head against the door, humming or sound came from the bathroom, meaning that it was unoccupied.

He pushed open the door, stripped out of his pajamas; consisting of a pair of boxers and a ragged old tee, and climbed into the shower. He silently swore at himself when he realized he forgot to let the water warm up, and would have to suffer the fate a cold shower. Screw it. Twisting the chrome shower handle over to where it let out water, he showered as the now lukewarm water ran down his body, wiping off the sweat and grime from last night, and trying to rinse away the nightmares that had plagued him since he was a preteen. He could not for the life of him, remember what had caused them. Every time he tried, his mind would lash out, and the fear would turn to rage… and well, the other foster homes hadn't reacted well to him after that.

Finishing, he dried off himself, and slipped into the outfit he had brought with him to the bathroom, before doing his daily routine. He shaved quickly, spiked his brown hair into his usual mini faux hawk, and brushed his teeth till they were perfectly whitened to his liking. Smiling his usual smile: teeth glittering and shit-eating, trying to hold the desperate mask he formed throughout life. The mask of humor and deflective answering.

Finally, he could face the day, or maybe just breakfast.

He slipped on some socks, and cautiously ran down the wooden stairs, trying not to slip as many a times someone in this house had done before. It had been a good laugh, when Georgia was carrying an overloaded laundry basket up to the linen closet, slipped, and her perfectly folded towels went flying. The explicit that came from her mouth were a moment that can only be experienced once in a man's lifetime.

Till the effect wore off and the two guys of the house would check to see if she was alive. Though most of the time her cursing answered that question for them.

The living room was empty, though the sounds of cooking and Brandon singing in French alerted him to the man's presence. Calvin sulked, knowing that Brandon would pester and probe him about how he was feeling, and how he slept, and probably remind him that he had yet another therapy session today with the school counselor.

God how he hated the therapy.

But he did it because it made Brandon and Georgia a bit happier. For some reason, whenever the two of them looked at him, their eyes filled with that of pity, almost as if he was some poor helpless animal caught in a trap. Like he had been through such trauma, and thus he couldn't live on his own.

He was sick of it.

Entering the wide open kitchen, he caught a glimpse of something he would desperately be trying to wash from the insides of his eyes: his cousin Brandon, cooking something like a pancake on drugs, in a pick 'kiss the chef' cooking apron, singing a song in French.

"Great, this is just one image that will be seared into my brain for the rest of my life." Calvin called, letting the cook know he had company.

"Good morning cousin. How's your morning going?" Brandon replied without turning around, or breaking concentration on his 'meal'.

"As well as it could without coffee." Calvin joked, before pouring the steaming black coffee Brandon made every morning into a mug. Sipping, he smiled as he remembered why he loved his cousin's coffee. The man made it so strong it could strip paint off a wall. Brandon chuckled, throwing a smile of his own at the teen.

"I'm making crepes."

"We're having paper ribbons for breakfast?" Calvin sighed.

"Crepes are a very delicious French breakfast, I'll have you know. It's sorta like those enchiladas we had at that Mexican place a few months ago, just not with all the cheese, salt and meat. And best of all, with these, you can put almost anything in them."

"Where's Georgia, doesn't she want some of these magical french pancakes?" Calvin replied, his face in a humorous glance as he leaned on the counter.

"She went to work, called into the OR earlier than we'd have liked, and they are not pancakes." Brandon defended. The teen rolled his eyes at the craziness. Calvin often wondered what drove Brandon to be this weird at times. He could understand the crepes and French singing, the dude was a high school French teacher, not to mention _his_ French teacher, but the apron and the happy go lucky attitude was new, and quite frankly, deranged in Calvin's mind.

"Can I just finish this cup of coffee and go to school?" Calvin asked. Brandon was not always the best cook, and when he tried making something new, it took a long time, multiple tries, and many more explicits, before they possessed a bearable amount of radiation, as to be ingested into the human body, with little to no adverse side effects.

"No, you are going to start your first day at a new, and **permanent** school, so before you do, you're going to have a good breakfast. Then you're going to go and make friends, and maybe in the future get a girlfriend. Or boyfriend, if you swing that way. Oh and maybe join a team, so you aren't at home so much." Brandon stated. "This is going to be different Calvin."

"Thanks, Brandon, are you trying kill me? If so, by what? Embarrassment? Poisoning at breakfast, hit and run with the staff golf cart?" Calvin muttered, not intending for the man to hear him.

"No, why would you assume I'd be trying to kill you?" Brandon questioned, of course hearing him anyway, all while serving the now complete crepes onto a glass plate that Calvin had not noticed was already in front of him. Calvin risked a glance at the plate.

"What the…?" Calvin stared. The large dish contained a large crepe, overflowing with what he could only assume was Nutella, an orange slice, and some bacon Calvin had not smelt before now.

"Now, eat." Brandon said, before sitting down across the rectangular table from him and began digging into the crepes on his plate. " They have nutella in them so, eat."

Calvin gave the flat meal a second glance, then looked up at Brandon, who had paused, watching and waiting for Calvin to take a bite. Calvin groaned.

"Are you serious right now?" he whined.

"Don't whine, it's very unbecoming. Now eat." Brandon replied.

Calvin swallowed. Truly, the way he was acting was a bit more paranoid than necessary, but as of late, he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't safe. He picked up the fork, and cut into the warm crepe, letting the smell of warm nutella fill his nostrils and relieve much of the stress he had that morning. He stabbed the fork into the thin dough, and before the piece fell off, he lifted it into his mouth.

It was warmth and perfection. He chewed, letting out a small moan, which caused Brandon to smile in pride, and swallowed.

"Good, right?" Brandon asked. Calvin grunted in response. "Hey Calvin?"

Calvin swallowed. "Yeah?"

"How did you sleep last night?"

Calvin stopped chewing, and the room was silent. Calvin's eye appeared to darken a bit, and his tone changed to a much sharper and annoyed one. "Fine, why?"

"It's just Georgia was worried, and the counselors in Boise told us..."

"To what? Watch me while I sleep, record anything that happens? Treat me like a lab rat? Stop saying there is something wrong with me! I am FINE. So what if I wasn't all that happy in Boise, doesn't mean that I need so much goddamn help!"

Calvin breathed. Brandon tried to speak up, but Calvin, now breathing heavier, stopped him.

"Can we just eat in peace?"

They ate their breakfast in silence, till Brandon yelled that they had to go, as the time for school was approaching fast, and they had to drive there. Brandon ran off upstairs, while Calvin grabbed his one-strap backpack from by the front door, filled with empty school materials, most of which would be filled with doodles and other non-school based creations.

As Brandon had yet to get him a sketchbook.

"Come on Brandon, we're going to be late." he mumbled, as his cousin clambered down the stairs, dressed in black dress pants, and a half untucked white collared shirt, brown boots heavy as he ran towards the door.

"Ready?" Brandon asked, not paying attention to the fact that Calvin was standing there, prepared to take Brandon's car and leave him behind.

"No…." Calvin gestured to himself for reference, " I'm not."

"Don't get smart."

Calvin sighed as the black jeep wrangler pulled into the school parking lot, into the staff spot reserved for Brandon.

"I know what you're thinking Calvin, but this is the last time we are moving. I know we've said that a lot, but this time we are staying till you go off to college. And you are going to college, if not, its tech school or the military. No ifs ands or buts."

"That's what the rest of the foster homes said. Look where I am now…" He shut the door, silencing his cousin before he could fire out a response.


	2. The Great Swapping

The Junior David Kearney was currently seated at a circular table somewhere in the massive school library, reading a book on God knows what, waiting for either his friends to arrive so he could have some company before first period, or wait silently and hope that he could avoid his friends till first period.

Either one worked.

And obviously fate was against him.

"Dave! Hey!" a high pitched voice called from the front of the aisle, directly adjacent to his seated position. He swore silently. Of all his friends, she was the least of the ones he wanted to talk to.

It was Connie, his best friend.

Connie sort of ran/sort of walked, over to him, her bag slapping her hip as she moved, her brown ponytail swinging side to side before she grew fed up with it and pulled it over her shoulder.

"Hello Connie." he replied in a monotone voice."What a pleasant surprise" To be honest, David did not want to talk to anyone at this time, especially about _him_ , and he knew that the first thing Connie would do would be to ask if he and _him_ did anything.

"Bullshit Dave, I know you're happy to see me." Connie replied sitting down across from him. Dear God, why did she have to call him Dave?"

"Please don't call me Dave, not anymore." he asked, trying to hide the displeasure in his voice at the nickname. Connie was taken aback.

"Why? I thought you loved when people called you Dave, sometimes letting them get away with a Davey. What happened? Did something happen? I knew it, something happened, what happened? Come on. Tell me!" she grew fervent in her ranting, hoping she could pry her way into getting him to spill what happened over the summer.

"Not telling, why? Because it's none of your business." he replied.

"What's none of my business?" a blonde haired man asked, seating himself next to David, a small smile on his face.

"Oh nothing, Alex, only Dave won't tell me what's made him have such a stick up his ass." Connie replied to Alex's question. "Well, more than usual."

"Can we just drop my life as the topic of this morning? Please? I'm sure there is something far more impressive and/or important than my life." David shielded. Alex laughed a bit, a smooth laugh that rolled over you contagiously, making you think it absolutely necessary to laugh along. By now David was immune to its possessing effects.

"There is as a matter of fact. A new kid, cousin of the new French teacher me and David have together. I don't know if they're a guy or girl, but I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. I'm quite anxious to meet them. From what I've heard from the teachers, he's an… interesting guy." Alex stated, quite nonchalantly. Connie grinned deviously at David.

"No Connie, no. Don't even think about it." David said, before Connie could suggest anything.

"What? I was just suggesting that you become friends,...preferably one immune to killjoys. And you're taken remember?" Connie replied, mumbling that last part. David scowled at his friend. And right before he could strangle said friend and dump the body, the rest of his friends showed up, each taking a seat around the table.

David sighed.

It was time for the Great Swapping.

Each year, they all got together on the first day to exchange their schedules for the year, in order to find out who had the same classes, who had the same lunch periods, and spares. Once the grand total of them all were assembled, they began. They each lined up their papers in a grid on the table, and compared, smiling and frowning when they determined their classes. Wash looked at his schedule again, hoping to memorize it.

French was first, shared with Alex, his friend Reginald, and...Maine.

Great, Maine was in his first class. Not that he disliked the guy, but Maine's friend Simon was kind of creepy, and Maine would do whatever Simon told him to, even making Maine hang around with Simon's circle of friends, what Simon called the 'Meta' Family. The only reason they were even friends was because Maine had suffered a throat injury and became mute, and Simon was the only seventh grader who knew complete sign language, save Elliott and Leonard Church, but Maine seemed to like Simon the best.

And Simon had it out for David, and all of Maine's former friends.

He looked down the rest of the schedule.

American Government, English Honors, Gym, Spares, Lunch, Chemistry, Trigonometry, another spare, and his Art class at the very end.

Many shared with his friends, mainly Alex, Reginald, Maine..., Caroline, and Connie. Though he did notice that he had classes with other friends, such as Trig, English, and Art with Church, Simmons, Caboose, and Grif, though how Grif even passed ninth and tenth grade was a mystery to them all, though the rumor was that Simmons had a soft spot for the Hawaiian. And Chem with Donut, Doc, Simmons, and Allison.

At least he wouldn't be in any classes with Elliot, he had made sure of it.

He frowned, forcing the thoughts from his mind. The last thing he needed was to start his junior year grieving over his broken relationship with his ex-boyfriend. Nor even trying to tell his friends what happened between them, what Elliot did to him, how he hurt him.

"Hey Dave?" Connie asked, looking up from comparing hers and Alexa's, her current girlfriend, and Alex's twin sister. "Where's Elliot? Aren't you curious if you have any classes together?"

"No." he stated plainly, letting his shoulders drop. "I'm not."

"What? Why not?" Caroline asked. "I thought you and him were madly in love." They're eyes all tuned towards the three of them. David debated internally whether or not to tell the. He weighed the choices in his head. If he stayed shut, Connie would just go to ask Elliot what had gone down, or worse, keep pestering him to tell her. Or he could just tell them now and face the mass amount of questions and shouting he knew might come….

Ah what the hell?

"We broke up, plain and simple." David commented, shrugging it off as if it were absolutly nothing. Connie's jaw fell open, and Caroline raised a curious eyebrow, and as predicted, several others started to shout questions. "Why it matters, I have no clue."

"When did this happen?" Caroline asked.

"Over summer break, why?"

"Why? You were perfect for eachother, you made each other happy, you always were smiling, you laughed more, you were happier." Connie replied, emphasising each point. "That's why!"

"So… I need to have a boyfriend for me to be happy?" he asked, pulling that one point out of the whole speech. "Eh, _Rebecca_?"

"No, no that's not what I meant…" Connie tried to defend herself, not even caring that he used her real first name. David just dismissed her, piling his belongings into his bag, and leaving the library without a second thought.

Now David expected a lot of things to happen. Connie might follow him, he might find someone even more annoying, like Donut, who was even worse when it came to breakups.

He had not expected to run into one of the most handsome guys he had ever run into.

"Sorry man, that was totally my fault." he said, a smile creeping onto the man's face. David looked up at his face. It was squared, but had enough of a curve to not look brawlic, he had light grey eyes, or eye, as one of them was blurred, almost as if blinded, and had a small slightly pinkish scar running over the eyebrow, eye, and just below it. His brown straight hair was styled into a faint point, like a mini faux hawk. "Names Calvin.."

"David." David said, a little flabbergasted. The man was _hot_ , and looked like he had the 'Mr. Right' personality to go with it, but also hinted off a deep sadness from long ago, buried inside him. "I… I got to, you know,...go. First period and all."

"Yeah, don't want to be late, first day and all." Calvin added, pointing to the main stairwell. "That way to the office, right?"

David was too stunned by the man's smile and stare that he failed to notice that the kid didn't know his way around, in which he normally would assume he was new, or a freshman, or he was like Caboose, but instead of his logical mind processing that, he neglected it, and watched as the kid walked away, waving a small goodbye.

"...Bye…" David waved back, a dopey smile on his face.

And in all of thirty seconds, he had forgotten all about Elliot.


	3. El Mechanico Magico

David may have wanted silence till first period, but fate must have really been against him that day. Walking rather briskly away from where he had bumped into Greek God amongst us, a.k.a Calvin, he found himself in the two floored, glass roofed, open atrium that was the school's main lobby. The massive two floored room was well lit, due to the red and blue glass wall that made up the front facade of the school. The walls were painted in the school colors, a weird, yet strange, mix of the colors Grey, Blue, and Red, the school team's symbol in tile on the floor, a red, blue, and grey arrowhead pointing towards the interior of the school, forming the symbol for war, the team name under it in a circle:

"Valhalla High School, home of the Freelancers."

Personally, David found it ridiculous.

But back to Fate.

David had hoped he could just get to his French class, pick a seat in the middle, as he always did, knowing his friends sat in the back, where they couldn't bother him, and try to live out the year. But things… don't always work out the way he thinks they should. As he was about to climb a staircase that led to the second floor promenade, he cringed as the front doors swung open, and in came the most horrid thing imaginable at this moment.

"Ugh Doc! It's so good to be back!" he heard a certain blonde say, no, scream, with hints of a feminine quality in it's tone, yet clearly the voice of a man...so doctors claimed.

"Frank, my name is Frank, not Doc." a brunette man said behind him, carrying a stack of books, a backpack, and fixing his glasses that were clearly not fitted right for the man's face. The blonde turned to the brunette.

"I thought you wanted to be a doctor." the blonde said, crossing his arms over his pink, no, _lightish red_ , tee shirt, blue eyes staring down the other. The brunette, whom everyone called Doc, due to his entire family being some form of a doctor, and the kid did want to go to Medical school, merely stared back at his friend, brown eyes staring into the blondes icy blue ones.

"I do, but why you call me Doc still goes beyond me." Doc said, breaking the stare and walking beside the blonde to the center of the room.

"And I keep telling you, it's because Caboose,... along with many of us…, can't pronounce your last name, and we both have the name Frank, so we go by our last names. And yours, as I stated before, is near impossible to say."

"What's so hard with saying DuFresne?" Aren't you taking French?" Doc questioned. The blonde sighed.

"Yeah, but when did I say I was good at it. I personally think Spanish is much better ,which is why I take both."

" _Sí, y que está absolutamente horrible en eso, por favor, deje de hacerlo_." a Spanish kid walked past, his backpack a very colorful gift from his family in Mexico, a wrench in the pocket.

"Hola López! ¿ _Cómo fue tu lápiz_?" Donut asked, waving at the spaniard.

Lopez looked insanely annoyed at Donut, and Doc thought that just for a second, he saw smoke coming from Lopez's nose.

" _¿Eres estúpido?! Puede que ni siquiera decir lo más fácil de cualquier palabra de español, y mucho menos un par de ellos juntos, imbécil?_ " Lopez screamed.

"Yes Lopez, the lawn looks very pretty this time of year." Donut smiled.

" _Vete por favor, acaba de salir, así que nunca hay que verlo de nuevo. Tal vez incluso Marte, o el sol._ " Lopez said, face palming. He turned, and left without another word.

" _Adios amor_!" Donut shouted.

" _Amigo_ " Doc corrected, rolling his eyes.

Lopez flipped him the bird.

" _Vete a la mierda_!" Lopez shouted, entering a classroom.

Donut smiled.

"We are such great friends."

Doc sighed. "Donut, why do I get the feeling otherwise?"

"Because you're not as attuned with the universe, or whatever."

Meanwhile, David tried to creep up the stairs, hoping Donut would not see him. But as like at the library, fate just hated him apparently. He tripped, like a dumb ass, over the tail if a bag laid out by a student at the base of the stairs. David toppled over the stairs, landing on his back, half the school staring at him, some laughing, others indifferently, and Donut…

"Hiya Dave, I see you're falling pretty hard to see me." Donut called, chuckling a little bit.

"Hi Donut." David replied in his monotone voice.

"Hello David." Doc added in, fixing his glasses yet again. "How was your summer?"

"Nothing but work and very little play." David replied, standing up and brushing off the non-existent dust on his sleeves. Doc frowned.

"I'm sorry to hear about you and Elliot." Doc stated, his voice saddened. Doc had been one of those to have 'noticed' David's sudden happiness spike when he and Elliot were dating. "But I'm sure that whatever reasons you had for doing what you did, were the right ones"

"I just couldn't stand his shit anymore." David murmured. "It was just too much. He…I don't want to talk about it." David interrupted himself. He wanted to get over him, but it was like somehow, he couldn't let go. Those damn memories of them, of Elliot laughing, and crying, and their time together…. It gave him a migraine.

"Enough about me. How was that paid internship you had?"

"It was good. Long hours, but at least I got overtime."

David blinked in surprise.

"You got paid _overtime_?" David asked, shocked.

Doc frowned again. "You don't?"

"No, no I don't." David replied, rather upset.

"No more sad things please. Happy thoughts!" Donut plunged into the conversation. David's scowl deepened.

"Donut…."

"Yes Mr. Grumpy Guy?"

"Do you want a repeat of what happened at the paintball arena?" David questioned.

"You mean where you shot me and Lopez, knocking me out for hours, and sending Lopez to the hospital?"

"Yes, that's the time."

"No?"

"Good, now stay out of the conversation."

Donut sulked. "You could ask nicely."

"I could, but then I'd have to talk more than I already have to. I figured a nice reminder was a better incentive."

"Whatever. Come on Doc, let's leave Wash in his own pity!"

And with that, the pink shirted, feminine man dragged his friend away down a hall, finally vanishing from David's sight.

"Why am I friends with them?"

" _Yo no se._ " a familiar spanish voice answered. David turned to face Lopez, who was filling a water bottle at the fountain. " _Tal vez tu solo que triste y solitario_."

David scowled. " _Al menos yo hablo Inglés. Durante todo este tiempo a nuestro alrededor y usted todavía no lo habla?_ "

Lopez shrugged, a sarcastic smile stretching across his face.

" _Tal vez sea para evitar conversaciones como ésta, que estamos teniendo, en estos momentos._ "

"Oh don't get smart. Don't you have a radio to fix in shop?"

" _Si_."

"Then go fix it." David said before walking off.

" _Bueno, yo lo arreglaré de aquí, porque estoy magia. Yo soy un mecánico mágico._ " Lopez muttered as he stalked to the shop wing.

 **Translations, Liberties have been taken for grammar:**

 **-"Yes, and you are absolutely horrible at that, please stop doing it."**

 **-"How was your pencil?"**

 **-"You're that stupid?! You can't even say the easiest of any Spanish words, let alone a couple of them together, imbecile."**

 **-"Please go, just leave, so you never have to see you again. Maybe Mars, or even the sun."**

 **-"Goodbye Love!"**

 **-"Friend"**

 **-"Fuck off"**

 **-"I do not know."..."Maybe cause you're alone, sad and lonely."**

 **-"At least I speak English."... "All this time all around us and you still do not speak it?"**

 **-"Maybe it is to avoid conversations like this one, that we are having, right now."**

 **-"Well, I'll fix it from here, because I'm magic. I am a magic mechanic."**


	4. I hate Therapy

Calvin impatiently stood outside the counsellors offices. He was supposed to meet this guy, named Counselor James, for a session, to talk on how things were with him, what was happening in his life, and basically making him feel like he was being interrogated.

As he'd stated many times before, he did not like therapy.

His head turned as the door opened for a tall, African American man, with close cropped black hair, harshly kind and honest brown eyes looked down at him, a look of pity and interest on his face.

Calvin felt like he was going to be sick.

"Good morning Mister York, please come in, have a seat." he smiled. Calvin, not wanting to see the man angry, obliged, and took as esat in one of the plush maroon seats in front of a large dark oakwood desk, with personal objects and photos placed neatly around the desk.

For a few moments, the two just stared at each other in earnest, neither one of them speaking. The room remained so quiet, the sounds of students in the hallway was filtering into the closed room.

Finally, the Counsellor decided to end the awkward silence and leaned over his desk, staring into Calvin's grey eyes with his dark brown ones. Calvin felt as if the man was boring into his mind, digging where he didn't belong.

"Can you please not do that?" Calvin asked, his voice sounding a bit terrified. The man leaned back, and crossed his arms, hs demeanor changed.

"No that that is over with, we can stop wasting time." he spoke with a smooth tone, one that seemed to roll over you. It did not help Calvin trust the guy. "Tell me, how are you liking it here? Would you find that moving away from your last home to be satisfying or the opposite?"

"Right to the point then." Calvin replied, "is there a middle option?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like is there an option that says I could care less?"

"Suffice to say there is not." the man replied, writing something into his notebook. Another thing Calvin hated. "I'll just put undetermined, sound good?" Calvin shuttered at the voice this man had. It was cold, and felt like a cold hand running over his skin. The room suddenly felt colder.

"Yeah, sure, whatever you want."

"Do you find that the move has made you more defensive, impulsive, even worried?"

"Worried and defensive? About what?" Calvin asked, tone cold like the room.

"So you agree that it has."

"I didn't say that."

"Sometimes, our silence says more than our words do, Calvin." the counsellor said, leaning forwards on his hands. "Now I spoke with your guardians before this meeting took place. Your cousin Brandon said you've been having nightmares. About what if I can ask?"

His eyes darkened again, and he suddenly felt hot, his eyes started darting around, and fear began taking over. His mask crumbled, but Calvin refused his tears the joy of coming out. Not in front of this stranger, this shrink. Calvin stood, shoving his chair a little too hard.

"Calvin…"

Calvin silenced him with a wave of his hand. "Look here. First, I hate the fact that I have to sit here and be expected to open up and spill everything about myself to some shrink. You, like all the others, said they could find the cause of my 'underlying trust issues', and frankly, I am sick of it all." Calvin answered with a small laugh, the weight lifting, "And second, this is my sixth time moving to a new place, and I'm pretty sure it's made me one of the only teenagers whose lived in every time zone in the continental United States. So what do you think my answer is?"

"I'll just put down unresponsive." he replied. "Tell me, what do you feel now? What set you off?"

"Great, another one." Calvin sassed. "You know you're not the first person to ask that, right? I have had eight different therapists and counsellors, some even sincere in trying to help, but there is nothing to help. I'm. Not. Broken."

"No one said you were broken Calvin, they just feel that it might be a safe path to have you talk to someone about whatever is going on."

"Shut up, just shut up, please, you have no idea of what you're really saying, do you?" Calvin growled, "I grew up with people who were there 'for me to talk to about things', and here's how they all went, although I'm sure you already learned all about me in some debrief you and my teachers got when they learned I was going to come here. The first one was to help me get over my parents death, and help transition into my life with my godparents. The second and third were trying to help me get over my godmother's death, the fourth was to help me get over being forced into foster care, though frankly, I do not remember the reason why I was forced into it, the fifth was to help when I landed myself in the psych ward for three days under suicide watch, the sixth was to help me get over trust issues, and the seventh was when I almost depressingly relapsed into old habits, and the eighth refused to see me after the first session, and here I am, once again, in the ninth person on the endless totem pole that is my life."

The counsellor stared wide eyed at the teenager in front of him. Calvin's chest was heaving from lack of oxygen, and his face was red.

"I think that is a good first session, I will see you at the end of the week to see how your life here is going." the counsellor said, smiling and shaking Calvin's hand. "Nice to meet you Calvin." Calvin slugged his bag over his shoulder, and sulked out the door.

"Yeah, whatever."

He exited the main office, looking down at his schedule. French first, and his cousin just so happened to teach it. Whatever, he'd deal with them soon enough. Right now, he had a day to survive, and he hoped to God that his mask would hold out.

"What did you learn Counsellor?" a man's smooth voice, with a small hint of a southern accent, possibly Texan, asked."

"Not much, though he did open up rather easily."

"Excellent. You will continue to see him, and report your findings to me and Mr. Wolfe, understood."

"Yes sir."

"Good. Dismissed." the Texan ended.

" _Principal Church, you are requested in the auditorium, the ninth graders are all here._ "he heard over the intercom. He smiled. He loved the first day speech.

"Coming Allison."


	5. French Class

After the morning's events, David had officially had it up to the moon with his high school's bullshit.

 _Maybe I will ask my parents to home school me. They always say we never spend enough time together as a family, what better way to do that then to have me never leave for school?_

No he wouldn't do that. He could barely be in the same room with his parents after the issue with Elliot over the summer. It was the last time his parents had seen him properly happy, save for the few snickers and smiles he showed when a show made a good joke, or on the phone with a friend. No he wouldn't last the week with them pressing into him for information. They already questioned why Elliot never came over anymore, and he was frankly surprised it took them as long as it did for them to ask, when the guy used to eat Friday dinner with them ever other week.

They still set a place at their dinner table in case David invited him. A tear, single bitter tear rolled down his face, sliding down his check, before he caught it before it could fall. He hated the looks his parents gave him when he said he wasn't coming over. He hated lying to them. But the truth hurt more to him than the lying to them.

He turned the corner out of the English wing, entering the foreign languages wing, where his first class of the day waited. French 102. Dwelling on the thought, he never understood why he'd chosen French. He never seemed any good at the language, and he was pretty sure that he was roped into it by Reginald and Michael, who everyone just called him by his nickname, Maine. He remembered when Michael and him used to be great friends.

In middle school, they'd looked out for each other. Both the girls and guys. If someone bullied David when he came out in eighth grade, Micheal, Reginald and Alex, even Alexa sometimes, who came out as a lesbian a month later, would step in and beat them down. When Allison and Caroline fought, or Alexa had issues with girls looking at he different, or the guys wanted help asking someone out, David was there, in the shadows, helping fit dresses for the dance, shopping with Connie and Caroline, or slowly convincing the girls that Reginald could crack at least one funny one liner or even the rare sleepover he was dragged to, he was there, just as they were for him.

But once high school hit, things went bad.

Micheal was hit in a football game, and his throat took the brunt of it. Doctors said he'd lost vocal ability, and if he could, it would be painful for him, and likely cause more damage. His friends never left his side. But when it came down to it, Michael would need help, and without his voice, he would need to communicated somehow. So the school sent in Simon. Simon was a freshman like them at the time, but he was... different. The kid was awkward, he drove people to avoid him, and he kept a tight hold over his friends, what few he garnered.

And Simon became the wedge that split the already forming crack. Michael began hanging out with Simon more than his old friends, and Simon never seemed to like them, namely David and Caroline. Eventually Reginald went his own way too, though he still talked with them. Their little family, their tight knit friendship... was unraveling.

David reached his class, few minutes to spare. The window provided a short glimpse into the room. Only the dedicated and hard workers had arrived, hoping to claim the best seats for the year, or get on their teacher, Mr. Penn's, good side. Mr. Penn wasn't even in the room, David took in. He glanced to his right. The teacher, a tall lean man in black pants and a sweater over his dress shirt, stood down the hall, on the phone with someone. David rolled his eyes and stepped into the room. The medium sized classroom faced the front of the school, with the windows looking out over the small grove of birch trees planted alongside the sidewalk. The parking lot, filled with a mix of fancy and used cars loomed far away.

A small though crossed David's mind, and he suddenly hope he remembered to lock his car's doors.

David pulled out his notebook, a worn leather book from a small in town bookstore, and began writing. One time a would-be bully attempted to snatch it, chanting 'David's Diary' before Michael ripped it out of his hands, and the bully ran off crying. The pages were old and yellowed, but creased and worn from use. He flipped through his work, small ideas and story clippings he written in his boredom. Despite the looming attitude of an unwillingness to care, David did care. But he refuses to share that with anyone, save maybe Elliot, but that ship sailed and he felt the regret of all he had shared with that man.

Students filed in steadily for the few more minutes that were left, and David recorded his morning. He figured it had been a while since he wrote in an underdog story. His mind raced towards one specific ting as his characters took form. A shy, masked main protagonist, aptly named Dylan of all things...

"Way to be original with that one David..." he whispered.

Dylan was shy, masked, and uncaring. He shoved his thoughts away, and pretended to be indifferent. The hurt he felt when writing Dylan made him want to stop, but if he did, then his day would just be ruined even further. His friends were splitting, his family fighting, and Dylan was in the epicenter of it all. But then in came his secondary protagonist... Campbell, a tall dark and handsome guy that had his own daemons, his own masks... and a smile to melt ice.

The door opened another time, and in strode Reginald, loudly mid-joke, and an annoyed Michael and... Simon. Reginald paused mid-word to say a short hello, and Michael offered a curt nod, which David responded in kind, before the trio set down in the far back corner of the room, lowering their voices but still loud enough to be overheard.

Lastly, Mr. Penn himself walked in, hair slightly disheveled from his hand running through it during his phone call. His tie was loose as well, and he heard Reginald some other jocks snicker at the implications.

"Mr. Kent if you'd be so kind as to refrain from joking we can get started with roll." Penn directed. "I hope to make this class somewhat fun for the most part, but that won't happen if I have to interrupt your jokes."

Reginald silenced himself.

"As for the repeat offenders in here, you all know the drill, lets hope we don't re-encounter each other third time." he glanced at the jocks that were snickering in the corner. "Being a senior in junior classes is not fun I'll bet."

The door opened once more and Alex ran in, panting.

"I apologize for this sir, sorry I'm late." Penn's gaze softened.

"No bother Alex, I haven't done roll yet, take a seat."

Alex thanked him and sat next to David.

"Hey man, you left the Library in a rush, what happened?" Alex whispered, semi-paying attention to Mr. Penn drill the class. "I know what Connie siad was pushing it, but if something's bothering you you can tell me. Just like middle school."

"I left cause that part of my life is over, and I didn't want Connie trying to reopen it."

"Fair enough. Hey have you seen the new kid yet, I'm anxious to see who it is."

"Why, your old friends not good enough?" David snarled, returning to his notebook. He thought back to the guy in the hall, the one rushing off to the office. He smiled, wondering where he was right now.

"Hey that's not fair. Now lets be social David."

"Whatever. No I haven't, hell I don't even know what they look like to know if I'd seen them. Why are you so excited to meet them anyway? You act like this is some Broadway play where this person will change everything." Alex laughed under his breath.

"Maybe they will. Maybe they won't. I'm just a friendly guy. I like to take care of people. Speaking of which, have you seen Theo yet?"

"Who?"

"Theo. I'm like his big brother or something. I joined that program that helps younger kids by giving them a sibling of sorts to talk to. I'll show you a picture of him at lunch. Or maybe you'll meet him one day. Though he is pretty shy." Alex smiled. "It's nice to have another sibling besides Alexa, even if they're not related. I like being a good influence on him, and he's started opening up..."

"Alright, now that I have given the late comers enough of a grace period to arrive, lets call roll." David notice Penn kept staring at the door, as if waiting for someone to arrive. He could've sworn he saw him mouth something like 'Where is he?'

"Anyway... if I butcher a name, forgive me." he laughed. "Perfect, tough one off the bat. Lilian Azabygus? Did I say that right?"

A dark skinned girl with a french braid nodded, before returning to her book.

"Sam Benward?"

"Here."

"Ian Bruce?"

"Here"

George Carli-"

The door opened again, and in walked...

David's eyes widened in surprise.

In walked the kid from the hallway.

In walked Calvin.

"Ah cousin, so nice of you to join us for class. I hope this won't be a repeat offense this year." Penn joked.

"Sorry Brandon... Mr. Penn, God that's so weird, the uh... Meeting went over." Calvin apologized. "Then I got lost."

Mr. Penn, Brandon, seemed to understand his cousin's words, and he motioned for the teen to sit.

"That's quite alright. Just take a seat... uh Mr. Kearney?"

David looked up in fear.

"Yes Mr. Penn?"

"Is that seat on your left taken?"

David looked to his left, at the empty desk, gulped, then nodded at Penn. His gaze fell on Calvin, whose dejected looks lifted when he saw who he was seated next to.

"Excellent, there you go Calvin."

And Penn resumed immediately.

"Hey, I remember you. Sorry I knocked you over in the hall. I don't usually try to make people fall for me on day one."

Alex snickered at the joke, and even David smiled. Calvin smirked at the smile on David's face.

"I don't make it the the habit to fall for the first person I see either." David replied. Calvin laughed.

"No, I suppose not. Who's your blond friend? He's kind staring at me like he's just matched up the perfect couple."

David blushed at the word. Contrary to his words, David was falling for Calvin. That small contact the fall and Calvin helping him up, David hated to describe fate as the reason, but it sure felt that way.

"That's Alex, and don't worry, he's just a weirdo. he watches everyone."

"And David is s cynic that listens to Carrie Underwood when hes down."

David sputtered.

"Really?" Calvin laughed. David turned red and glared at Alex, who held his hands up in mock surrender.

"Hey Calvin, since you're new, would you care to sit with us at lunch? We'd gladly make room for you, if you can stand the others in our dysfunctional friendship that is."

"I... I'll see." there was a tightness to his voice, and David glanced cautiously at Calvin for it. "Thanks for the offer.

Calvin only mildly interacted with them for the rest of the forty minutes, leaving quickly, before either Brandon or Alex could say a word. At that moment David knew two things. He was falling for Calvin. And:

It was going to be a long year.


	6. We Don't Bite

Calvin breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he rounded the corner. All around him, students milled about on their way, oblivious to his presence. As a kid, he would've hated it. He like the attention. Craved it even.

Now? Now it only reminded him of something he'd lost.

"Hey Calvin, you alright?"

Eyes wide, he looked up, staring up at the blond from his last class... Alex.. he remembered. God, did he always have to have that insanely sexy smile on his face?

"Yeah, sorry, lost in thought." Calvin sighed. "Its been a long day so far."

"First day jitters?" Alex asked, leaning up against the wall beside Calvin. He folded his arms over his purple button down, flexing the strong muscles in his arms that Calvin could just make out through the thin shirt.

"You could say that." Calvin leaned back as well. "I feel like everyone looking at me. At first I figured I had a zit or some of Brandon's breakfast left on my face. Then it clicked."

"The scar?" Alex questioned, pointing to his own eye as an example. Calvin simply nodded.

"At this point it's become a normal thing to me, I hardly even notice it anymore, unless people start to bring it up."

"How did you get it?" the blond stud pried, hoping he hadn't gone too far. "Sorry, rude to ask you something so... personal."

"No you shouldn't have..." Calvin snapped. His voiced darkened, and Alex recoiled at the sudden change. "Sorry... It's just a very personal thing that I don't like to come up. I shouldn't have snapped."

Alex softened, but his tone now carried a more warned tone, cautious as to Calvin's state of mind. Calvin looked down at his feet, shoving his hands forcibly into his pockets, kicking at the ground.

"So where are you from? Your accent is familiar... Long Island?" Alex said after a little while. He glanced at his watch. he had a spare period, and if Calvin needed to go to class, Alex could show him. His sister would have laughed, teasing that he'd found yet another lost puppy.

"Close, Queens." Calvin replied. "Flushing to be precise."

"Isn't that near Citi-Field?"

"Right next door. I used to walk with friends to the games. Wasn't there for Shea's closing. I'd moved by that point."

"So if I came into school with a Phillies jersey then..." Alex joked.

"I'd have to make you disappear." Calvin laughed.

"Note taken."

"I have a class soon, still invited to lunch?" Calvin smiled. Alex nodded, smiling that sexy grin at Calvin once more, and jogged off down the stairs.

His hallway meeting with Alex had left him in a better place than this morning had, and Calvin wanted it to last the whole day. Unfortunately, life had other plan for the junior. First was his English Lit teacher, a short, bulky in a muscular kind of way, and most importantly, loud African American women named Mrs. Kingston, who despite the boring literature that the school imposed upon them, somehow made Calvin interested in reading Moby Dick.

Not for the reading of course, but just to see her try and get through one chapter without her usual theatrics.

Next was his Graphical Arts, which was the one class he'd looked forward to, if the teacher actually bothered to show that is. Mr. Godfrey, a tall, lean man in his late twenties it seemed, was already balding, sweated way too much, even in the cold art halls, and always showed up late to his own class. In response, Calvin swiped a mid sized sketch book from the shelves. Some students from previous years had drawn their own art in the pages, leaving notes on better faces drawing, or how to shade in backgrounds in a convincing way. Others just told stories, and Calvin had gotten a laugh or two out of some of them.

At the back of the small hardcover book was a list of names, written in a variety of different handwriting. Some scribbles from the ones with not-so-neat ones to elaborate scripts that Calvin only gawked at. He added his own below that last one, a one Renee Samwise.

Her art caught his attention the most. It was a complicated mix of both realism and cartoonishness. Cartoonist eyes and features mixed with realistic faces and bodies, deep shades of graphite cast rich shadows on the pages, and each one had a note scrawled at the bottom of the page.

She even took the time to border her pages.

When Godfrey dismissed them, Calvin steeled himself for the lunch period. At least the cafe wasn't hard to find. One only had to follow the loud sounds of seats clamoring against the noise of loud conversations to find the largest room in the entire school. Calvin entered the room, set into the corner of the school, with two whole walls of glass, and several skylights that he guessed let in so much light, that even on an overcast day the school wouldn't need a light in here.

He'd not seen either Alex or David on the lines, and he had even considered just setting himself down at an empty table like a loner. After all, what if these people turned on him? What if they scorned him?

"Hey new kid!"

Well there went that idea.

He spotted a perky looking brunette seated next to a rather scary looking blonde with some colorful highlights. She waved him over and kicked out a seat across from her, motioning for York to sit. He glanced at that table in the corner. several others had taken over it, and he sighed.

Well shit.

Calvin reluctantly took the empty seat, and the blonde laughed, no barked was more like it, at his hesitation.

"Relax dough-boy, we don't bite... much." she popped a bubble of gum and smiled. "Names Alexa, and if you call me anything but I'll snap you like a twig."

The brunette slapped lightly smacked her shoulder.

"Don't mind her, she's always this grumpy."

"Except when she's alone with you..."another voice said. York turned and faced another woman, with Native American skin and features, long black hair, and green eyes.

"Shut up Lacey."

"Make me South." Lacey argued back, "or did you forget I'm your ride to work?" The brunette ignored the two women.

"I'm Connie, Alexa's mood ball/girlfriend." She smiled. "Alex told us you'd be here. He's running late in a class. Anyway, this is Alexa and Lacey, and the others will be here shortly."

Calvin blinked. Others? How many more were there?

"Others?"

"Yeah, let me fill you in before you get overwhelmed." Connie said, smiling. Unlike Alex's which had an air of sexiness to it, or Alexa's whose resembled a wolfs in more ways than one, hers was soft, and had a slight curve of teeth showing, and inviting. "Okay so first is the juniors. There's Reginald, Michael, David, and Alex, and the girls are Caroline and her twin sister Allison. Then there is the sophomores. we met most of them at work. Most of them work in the same Cafe I work at, and they melded into the group from there. I'm sure they can introduce themselves."

"How many people usually eat here?"

"About twenty sometimes. We tend to be the largest..."

"And loudest." Lacey added. Alexa laughed and high fived the girl she'd just been arguing with.

"...tables in the cafeteria." Connie finished.

"Okay..."

"Don't be scared, they just need to... you'll get used to them. Besides! We all help each other out. Richard is great when we need math and science help, Leonard is amazing with computers, and Donut... well... Donuts good with clothes." Connie explained. "The only ones you should look out for are Caroline and Allison. They can get into some nasty fights."

"How nasty?"

"Grif got involved once and he almost lost the possibility to have children." Alexa answered. "They don't kid around."

"So... basically duck and cover like theirs a nuke about to go off."

"That.. that actually is pretty accurate." Connie smiled.

"Sorry I am late, though I see you got here just fine eh Calvin?" Alex smiled, taking the empty seat next to Calvin. He flashed that smile at him, and Calvin felt blood rush to his cheeks and his...

"What took you?"

"Photography ran late." Alex replied. "Hopefully I won't be doing it all the time. So Calvin, how's your first day been so far?"

"A weird mix of shitty and exhausting."

"Welcome to High school."

"I have my cousin for my teacher, Kingston barely able to get through a book cover without some theatrics, and a teacher that shows up halfway through the period looking like he stepped out of a sauna in his clothes." Calvin explained. "What else is new."

"Could be worse." Connie said. "You could have that one Chemistry teacher that blows up the room every year."

"Or you could have psychology with the Mr. James." Lacey added. "He's also the school counselor."

Calvin felt himself get sick. He'd had enough of that prick.

"Yeah... much worse."

 **Long time no update, shame on me. This took a while to think of, and I'm honestly not the proudest of how it all came out. Next is another David POV, and an introduction to our conflict in this confusing story of mine.**


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